He slammed her against the wall and raised her up. He was strong. Stronger than any man she had yet been up against.
“Let her go!” Jack launched at Joe, fists raised.
Joe backhanded him across the face and sent him reeling to the floor. He laughed and leaned in close to Red’s face. “I think I broke your little toy.”
His breath smelt like rotting meat. Red cringed, but couldn’t pull back. “Ever heard of dental hygiene?
You can buy a toothbrush now, you know,” she managed to squeak.
His smile faded. “You have a wicked tongue, girl.
But after tonight I’ll show you what your tongue is for.”
He smashed his mouth to hers. His tongue snaked through her swollen lips. He invaded her mouth with it.
Red nearly gagged from the taste of him. She could feel his slimy tongue probing inside her mouth. He tasted of stale beer, sour milk, and something foul she could not name.
She flailed her legs and arms, but to no avail. Her limbs were weakening due to the lack of air. Black spots clouded her eyes. She would soon pass out. In a last-ditch effort, she brought her hands up to his face.
Her thumbs pressed into his eyes.
Joe started to squeal. He let her go and grabbed her arms, but it was too late. Red had already dug her thumbs deep into the soft gel of his eyes.
Red fell to the floor. She rubbed at her bruised neck as Joe stumbled around the bar his hands over his gouged eyes.
“Oh, my God! Someone help me! She blinded me! I can’t see. Please someone help me!”
Red stood up on shaky legs. She gripped the wall to steady herself. She walked over to where Joe stood babbling.
“Need some help?” She growled.
He put a bloody hand up in defense. “Stay away from me! You took my eyes! You took my eyes, you bitch!”
“You won’t need them where you’re going.”
Red reached around her sides and with uncanny speed unsheathed two long blades from her back leather straps. She crossed her arms in front of her swiftly and gracefully.
Joe gurgled and grabbed his throat. He fell to his knees. He reached up for an imaginary helping hand, then fell forward onto the scarred wooden floor.
Silence reverberated throughout the room. None of the patrons dared move. They stared wide-eyed at the carnage laid before them.
Red sheathed her knives. She sauntered over to where Jimmy still lay, hands cradling his nose. She stood over him menacingly.
He started to whimper. “Have mercy.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Jimmy. I want you alive so you can take back a message to The Wolf. Tell him he may think he’s hunting me, but I am nobody’s prey.”
Without a single glance at his fallen brothers, Jimmy scrambled to his feet and ran out of the pub.
Red leaned over where John lay, and pulled her knife out of his head. She wiped the blood on his shirt and sheathed it back on her leg. She felt a presence behind her. She swung around, hands up, ready to strike.
Jack stood behind her, his cheek red and already swelling. “Are you all right?”
Red turned from his caring blue eyes and went to the bar. “Nothing that won’t heal.” She picked up a neglected drink and pounded it back.
She winced as the alcohol stung her open cuts. The burning felt good. Made her feel still alive. She reached down to her belt and untied a little leather pouch. She set it on the bar counter.
“Give me a bottle of vodka. The rest’s for the garbage disposal.”
The barkeep set an unopened bottle of vodka in front of her. He took the pouch and upended it into his hand. Gold coins spilled out onto his palm. He held onto four coins and handed the pouch back to her.
With bottle in hand, Red walked to the exit. Jack followed silently behind her. She pushed opened the door and walked out into the brisk night. A rainstorm was brewing. Dark, threatening clouds amassed in the night sky. She could smell it in the damp air.
She walked slowly down the cobbled street feeling the effects of the evening's altercation. She could feel Jack behind her. She stopped and turned toward him.
He looked like a lost little puppy. Red was not good with pets. She hated the responsibility for another’s care. That was why she had no friends, either. Too many obligations, too many friends lost.
“Go home.”
“No. I want to go with you.”
“Why?”
Jack reached out tentatively, hand shaking, and slid his thumb over her swollen lips. She didn’t pull away. “Does it matter?”
Red turned and continued walking down the street. Jack followed. She reached the end of the street to a rundown boarding house. She opened the door and turned back to Jack.
“I won’t be gentle.”
“I know.”
Chapter Two
Her room was cramped and musty. Just enough room for a single bed and a small chest of drawers. She didn’t use the chest. She had everything she owned and needed tucked safely away in her leather bag stored under the bed’s wooden frame.
Jack glanced around the dark and dismal room. He sat timidly on the edge of the bed. The mattress sagged with age and use.
Red uncorked the vodka. She took a swig from the bottle, then handed it to Jack. He took it gingerly, putting it to his mouth and took a small sip. He handed it back to her. She took another big pull on it before setting it on top of the dresser drawers.
“Take off your clothes.”
Jack flinched. “What?”
“You heard me. I don’t like to repeat myself.” Red stepped in front of him. She pulled her shirt up over her head, and tossed it to the floor. Her small, firm br**sts were free. She wore no undergarments. Her peaked ni**les were flushed bright red.
Jack watched her in fascination. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her pert bosom. He ached to touch it.
Red reached down and tore at his flimsy linen shirt. She ripped it open. She couldn’t feel his warm flesh fast enough. There was nothing more life-affirming than sex. She wanted it, needed it. She needed it to make her feel something, anything. She had gone too many days feeling empty and soulless.
Jack gasped at her aggression. Moaned as she touched his skin. Her hands were everywhere. They raced down to his breeches, and popped open the buttons. She reached in and gripped his already throbbing cock.
Jack popped the buttons on her dungarees and they dropped down her legs. She was soon completely na**d. He drank in the scent of her, devoured her lean, muscular frame with his eyes. He pressed his mouth to her br**sts, sucking a nipple into his mouth, hands stroking her firm buttocks.
Red could not wait. She didn’t want gentle. She didn’t want soft. She wanted fierce and frantic, like her inner soul. She straddled Jack. She held his c*ck while she impaled herself on him.
Jack cried out as she enveloped him. She was so hot and wet, he nearly came in one stroke. He gripped her ass cheeks tightly as she rode him hard. He pressed his mouth against her br**sts, barely able to do anything else.
Red wrapped her hands in his hair, ground herself hard against him. She needed to be filled up; she felt so empty inside. She stroked up and down quickly, searching for her release. She could hear Jack’s labored breath and low groans. She knew he was close. She didn’t care. He was just a tool to her, a tool to satisfy her own pleasure.
She reached between them and found her clit. It ached painfully. She rubbed her fingers over it firmly, back and forth. She quickly pushed herself over the edge. Her cl**ax ripped through her violently. She cried out as she grabbed Jack’s head and crushed him to her. She felt him come soon after.
Hours passed. They had sex twice more before Jack fell asleep, spent and satisfied. Red sat up on the bed and listened to the storm, not in the least bit content.
The storm thundered. Lightning ripped through the sky as rain pelted the windowpanes. Jack was sleeping soundly. Red looked down at him. He slept like a child, full of innocence and purity. She wondered how long it would take for that to be torn from him. She had been only twelve when she lost hers.
Red hunkered down into the bedding, tucking a pillow behind her head. She needed to get some sleep.
If the Pig brothers could be believed, she would need all her strength and wits to outmaneuver The Wolf.
Then she could finally exact her revenge on him.
She closed her eyes and slept.
Running through the woods. So quiet. Even the birds don’t chirp. There’s a small cottage up ahead. The lights are on. Smoke billows from the chimney. So welcoming. The door opens.
“Granny? It’s me. I brought you some muffins.”
No answer. Something’s wrong. The bedroom door is ajar. Muffled sounds come from within. Pushing the door open...
A man looms over Granny’s bed. A large man with long, black hair. Granny’s eyes are wide. Blood blossoms across her chest.
Screaming. The man turns. His eyes are so blue they’re translucent. They seem to glow in the dimly-lit room like an animal. He pulls the knife from Granny’s chest and marches toward the cowering child. He stops inches away and looks down at her.
She jumps up and attacks him. Screaming. Screaming.
He’s caught by surprise. He flinches. His arm jerks out.
The knife catches her in the face. It cuts her, deep. She screams, hands covering her face. She falls to the floor.
He runs out of the house. The girl lies on the floor, sobbing.
Red bolted up from the bed. Sweat poured off her face and soaked the sheets beneath her. She rubbed her hands over her face as she swung her legs over the bed and stood. She went to the dresser and picked up the bottle and took a long pull. She got dressed, strapped on a wrist sheath and tucked her small dagger into it. Wrapping up in her hooded black cloak, she left the room.
Jack opened his eyes and watched the door close.
Red stood behind the boarding house in the rain.
There were just open fields, then tall trees behind the house. That was one of the reasons she picked the place. A cheap place to rent and a place for a quick escape.
She raised her head to the cool rain. She opened her mouth and let the chilled liquid pour in. She swallowed it down and opened for more, thirsting for the pure water. She drank it in greedily, hoping to be cleansed, but knowing that no amount of water could wash away her sins. She had been too long alone, with only black-hearted vengeance and cold steel for companions.